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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122771">There Are No Excuses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliesarah16/pseuds/Milliesarah16'>Milliesarah16</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>EXO (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Prison, Confinement, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Instability, Prison, Psychoanalysis, Psychological Trauma, Psychology, Research, Studying, Unhealthy Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:15:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliesarah16/pseuds/Milliesarah16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zhang Yixing has always had a fascination towards the reason as to why things happen. Jongdae is no exception.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Junmyeon | Suho, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <span>
    <span>
      <strong>
        <span>
          <em>
            <span class="u">Chun Hei Island – Year 2075</span>
          </em>
        </span>
      </strong>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p>
  <em>   <span><span>Zhang Yixing has always had a fascination towards the reason as to why things happen. He frequents the word ‘why’ and used it as the basis of everything he works towards. It would start with simple ‘why’ questions, for example ‘why do we need to eat’ or ‘why do we need to sleep’; soon developing into ‘why do humans exist’ and ‘why do we take the world for granted’. The questions in his mind were, and are, never ending.</span></span></em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   School days were spent answering the questions that never contained quite such simple answers. He needed to know the earth’s history, he needed to be aware of the society he lives in, researching anything from politics to HDI and GNI, trade unions and International relations held within the United Institute for Nations (UIN), that brought him only more questions rather than the long-awaited answers that he had been looking for. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   With his mindset always filled with numerous interrogatives, he majored twice in Criminology and Psychology, excelling above others for his skills in debating everything in front of him whilst simultaneously discovering answers for them. It’s his determination to make a difference, to change the way humanity views the world, that leads him into the study of a lifetime; hopefully with the reward of a PhD at the end of it, which will officially assign him the devoted title of Dr. Zhang Yixing and the end career choice as a Criminal Psychologist.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   It’s Yixing’s dangerous curiosity that sends him into the domain of one of the population’s most diverse dilemmas: Crime. Always around, yet with no way to cure it, he takes it upon himself to base his PhD on Sociological and Criminological research that will send him into the minds of those who have committed petty theft to those who have become infamous serial killers; one day, with the hope of solving the world’s difficulties surrounding crime and find the answers to questions which have been asked for many lifetimes.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   It’s a small miracle that one of the most overpopulated prisons in the world accepted and gave permission for his research to be carried out. The Enhanced Xenon Organisation provides numerous ethical problems for Yixing, especially being surrounded by a majority population of dangerous criminals. The prison, dubbed EXO for short, is overpopulated by almost 13.3% and has been allowed to stretch above official occupant rates as inhumane compensation for military use and scientific experiments, that have undoubtedly been forbidden everywhere else. It’s a risky decision to choose an institution so fine-tuned in preventing the outside world from discovering the prison’s true purpose, opening its doors to international criminals as long as it’s Government funded, yet it’s the heart of the dark side to the human race; anyone and everyone can be found at EXO prison and therefore provides the only route to discovering a solution to the crime rates around the world, with the additional credit of exposing and shutting down the UIN’s involvement in the largest slaughterhouse on earth.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Enhanced Xenon Organisation (EXO) Prison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <span>
    <span>
      <strong>
        <span>
          <em>
            <span class="u">Enhanced Xenon Organisation (EXO) Prison – Year 2081</span>
          </em>
        </span>
      </strong>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <em>   For the first time in Zhang Yixing’s life, he’s at a loss for what the answers may be. Six years into his research and little development has been made, despite the hundreds of recordings from his interviews with prisoners and the endless microchips storing notes from observations around the two-hundred-acre island dedicated to this one institution, and he has nothing. Not even his assistant, Kim Minseok, has a single clue as to any potential breakthroughs that need to be found by the end of his seventh research year; leaving his eighth for the compilation of his entire project.</em>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Yixing hasn’t left the prison since he arrived. He deems every waking second as vital time for gathering facts, gauging interactions between prisoners, as well as their interactions with law enforcers that do anything to keep them in check. Admittedly, it’s almost entertainingly obvious how most inmates are the ones in control when the wardens believe they are the ones running the place, bearing in mind none act upon their control in fear of the consequences later on. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Is temporary freedom worth a lifetime of torture? Not to them. That’s a question he can answer.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   The overall infrastructure of EXO is quite incredible. Upon the island, stands one hexagonal building, created by thick walls of dulled concrete often marred by cracks mimicking the look of poison ivy one would find creeping up the side of a small thatched cottage – similar to one he spotted in an Ancient Tudor England architecture book he read when curious about the way humans used to live – before white marble and glass houses, with tinted windows that increase or decrease in shade intensity powered by specific resident’s voices, were adopted in their stead. In Yixing’s opinion, the world has become too clouded by the progression of technology that no one even remembers what a decent building looks like. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   It had been a pleasant change, for Yixing, when arriving at EXO; the building having stayed the same for over sixty years.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   The hexagon-shaped building stands thirty levels tall, with six separate wide corridors that pass-through rows and rows of identical prison cells. The ground level cells are shut off with from the rest of the Island’s population, since they contain the worst of the worst that apparently are too dangerous to mingle with other criminals and will pose a serious risk to the law enforcers, who work there, if released. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Leading up to the rest of the barred cells, imposing metal staircases ascend to all floors - there being at least six staircases that are positioned in each couloir – just to accommodate the mass population kept within the high walls of the building. Placed in each corner, on every floor, there is common room area for prisoners to eat, and get registered, before being sent back to their cells. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Amongst the many policies surrounding prison regulations, one thing Yixing agrees with is the limitation to only two inmates per room. One of the wardens assigned to his research, Kim Jongin, informed him on his first day that it’s to reduce conflicts between inmates.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   To make matters more complex for EXO’s prison administration, each officer posted on a stipulated floor must direct each level of prisoners into the oversized courtyard, every day – twice a day. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   The courtyard is an expanse of dried dirt and sand, mixed together as if to replicate a desert, placed within the hexagon, overseen by six watch towers observing from all corners of the prison. Twenty-four-hour patrol spans out across the vast mass of dirt, where Hover Bots pace back and forth on the lookout for escapees. On the rare occasion a prisoner braves their security system, every alarm is set off the moment a sensor picks up traces of suspicious activity. All personnel are informed immediately, along with a full lock down that can only be overridden by a member of the security watch; overseen by the most mindless hunk of a man, Park Chanyeol. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   On top of the intense external security, each prisoner is gifted with a sensory implant, connected to the prison’s computer system, that will release a temporary paralysis into their bloodstream which can only be stopped with this special antidote hidden within the prison’s medical ward. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Of course, the microchip and the antidote are compliments of the scientists using the inmates as Guinea pigs for their new inhumane creations; with Kim Junmyeon ensuring the misery of many through said invention. The Hover Bots, Yixing later discovered after a year into his extensive stay at the EXO prison, are the courtesy of the United States Military; advertised as “fast, effective, efficient and reliable” and are available to everyone who believes that security is the most important thing in the world.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Apparently, that figure equates to nearly 83.6% of the earth's mindless population.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   It’s certainly evident, as a notion Yixing honed in on instantly upon his arrival at EXO, that security is a top priority within the institution. He was searched, by numerous machines, along with his research equipment and personal belongings, in which the process took well over two hours. That isn’t mentioning the hour it took for them to run background checks on him to confirm that he is who he says he is. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   It’s an understandable precaution. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Poor Minseok, however, refused to take up a permanent residence on the Island – in one of the six surrounding apartment blocks available for wardens who are in requisition to work every day of the week – requiring him to run through the same three-hour security checks every two months.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Kim Minseok. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   His employment under Zhang Yixing is a slightly strange and, somewhat, complex one. The Chinese researcher had been so desperate for a partner to assist him with his project that he was willing to employ the other for only a month at a time. In total, the other works for Yixing four months of the year. Despite the short amount of time, Minseok is a vital piece in the puzzle he is attempting to put together, which is enough to make him content enough to not demand any more assistance from his friend; whom he’s known for nearly seventeen years of his thirty-five years on earth. He knows that Minseok is very torn between loyalty to his wife and children and his extensive repertoire within the research industry, so Yixing had to ultimately decide that any moment with the other is priceless.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Admittedly, even with Minseok coming to his aid, the very beginning of Yixing’s research was all over the place. A high majority of prisoners flat out refused to participate, later being commanded to comply with threats of dire consequences if they failed to do so. Resulting from this, their answers were less than satisfactory, and it was obvious to even the inanimate chairs they were sat on that their answers had been amended just for the fun of it; which, of course, included a more vulgar choice of words just to make him uncomfortable as revenge for conducting the interview in the first place. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   More problems started to arise when a few documentations suddenly disappeared just as the project had past the three-year mark; being in an environment with an array of criminals, it’s hardly surprising that one day some of it would end up in the wrong hands. Yixing didn’t care to find out the outcome of the male who took them, and he still isn’t interested. He's not sure he could stomach it, either.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Four years in and his time within EXO becomes noticeably more bearable, having even stretched the extra mile to befriend a few inmates as his times alone in the one-bedroom apartment outside of the establishment became too lonely even by his antisocial standards. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Now, in his contemporary days of research, Zhang Yixing leaves each day with renewed optimism; especially in the moments where one interview goes swimmingly, and he discovers that lots of people, who end up being the nicer of a selective bunch, are merely there because they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time; evidently landing them in the most outrageous institution on the planet.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Six years in and the researcher begins to truly realise the little progress made in terms of any aspect of their investigation into crime. He often wonders whether it would be worth it to just abandon his PhD and recommend to the UIN that they should threaten the world with being sent to EXO for military testing and scientific experiments. The threat, despite it being a mere thought, is enough to send an unwanted shiver down Yixing’s spine; not wishing to be inside the mind of any criminal wandering around the streets with the naive belief that they will never be sent here. </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Guaranteed, if inquiring as to a criminal’s worst fear, it would be the EXO prison.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   ‘Unfortunately, life isn’t quite so simple,’ he reflects; preparing his interview schedule for his next session with a new inmate.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   Prisoner 259.</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <b>
        <em>
          <span class="u">
            <span>Day One</span>
          </span>
        </em>
      </b>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Zenna, bring up my schedule for today’s interview.” Yixing speaks out, to the empty viewing room he has his materials scattered around in. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Two decades ago, humanity made a full upgrade to electronic devices, resorting to the easier option of using technology instead of pen and paper with the excuses that they are benefitting sustainable energy compared to the old method through the cutting down of trees. It’s a load of rubbish and the UIN know it. However, humans are lazy creatures, as of late, resorting to simplified methods that involve little to no exertion other than the use of someone’s voice or the occasional remote control, or hand movement. The latest invention – compliments of SM Development Industry (SMDI) – is a pair of permanent computerised contact lenses that come pre-connected to the World Internet Base (WIB) and allows every human being on the planet to join their own cloud server and access a lifetime of information of which, in Yixing’s opinion, is a scary reality that the UIN have information stored away about every little thing that every single person has done throughout their life.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   And some say big brother is a myth.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Of course, Sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?” A robotic voice floats through his head, generating from the small microchip, he’s had since birth, that he knows is attached to his nervous system, that had been genetically modified to match his DNA so that the neurons in his body can travel through the miniaturised computer, literally, implanted into his brain.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Can you also bring up the next prisoner’s file?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yes, Sir.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Thank you.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Images disperse right in front of him, displaying a brown-haired male, whose wavy locks are parted just off to the centre, with alarmingly prominent cheekbones that cast small shadows over the plains of his hollowed cheeks that stretch down on olive skin before shaping an angular jaw. The male’s lips are thin and pink, curling attractively in the corners to create a feline appearance. Yixing’s attention drifts back up the inmate’s mug shot, landing on a set of delicate, chocolate eyes dancing with a certain glint of mischief that is even evident through this still picture. The man’s name is nothing special, and nothing about his background particularly stands out to Yixing, at first glance. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Kim Jongdae, aged 28, imprisoned in the year 2076 after pleading guilty to the murder of a woman in her late thirties during an altercation with the victim’s husband. The Nation’s Court of Justice (NCJ) sentenced Jongdae to life in prison with no chance of freedom, as of now, until informed otherwise.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Just another cliché murderer, right Zenna?” He muses out loud, releasing a small chuckle at his own observation until his AI breaks him out of his usual awkwardness.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I don’t believe this is a laughing matter, Sir.” The odd feminine voice attempts to be critical of his amusement, only to fail miserably when no emotion provides a lack of severity to her words. Yixing can imagine himself being good friends Zenna, if it weren’t for the reality that she is an inanimate object physically stuck in his mind.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “After six years in this prison, Zenna, any form of entertainment is a blessing.” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The researcher’s irises probe for more information on his next interview subject; his thoughts requesting for his 2017 playlist to start, causing his head to subconsciously bob along in time with one of his favourite songs. Along the way, another question pops up in his mind, asking ‘why don’t we create music like this anymore’, never finding the answer and leaving a mental note to look it up later.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Sir, Officer Oh Sehun and Officer Kim Jongin have just arrived with the prisoner.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   His music is cut short – way too soon for his own liking – and the documents in front of his eyes transfer to his transparent, plastic tablet before Zenna automatically shifts them around so that all necessary items are presentable on screen. Through the one-way mirror, the researcher can make out a pair of uniformed bodies guarding the more than disgruntled looking figure of the same inmate he read up on moments before.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Start recording the moment the officers leave the room and hold all calls and messages until the interview is over.” Yixing informs his AI, making his way through the automatic metal sliding doors before turning left to place himself before a separate door, less than a meter away from the one he just exited from. Standing as still as possible, the security pad scans his outstretched palm before a blue-white light beams out to scan his eyes. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He briefly remembers how one of the medical staff, working within the prison, once explained that the beam reaches right to the back of someone’s eye, allowing for the tissue on the retina to be sampled and analysed before being taken off to EXO’s computer system where it will be run through and confirmed in less than a second. Yixing ended up getting so confused, he only knows how it really worked because of the notes he foretold Zenna to make before going into the medical wing. Lord knows what kind of beneficial information they might give him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Welcome Dr. Zhang.” The deep robotic voice of the prison’s computer system rings out through the empty hallway, all other interrogation rooms being soundproof and there being no staff members wandering the sterile white corridor, that always manages to set his nerves on edge. A high-pitched buzz emits from the security panel and the metal doors slide apart; allowing him to make his way towards the single iron table in the centre of the crowded room, sitting opposite three figures, two of which eye him up in anticipation for their next orders whilst the other stares, with a bored expression, at grey coloured shoes that had probably been white, once upon a time.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Thank you, officers. I’ll take it from here.” He nods in their direction, fiddling absentmindedly with the clear gadget in his hand, only briefly acknowledging the synchronised bow of respect before the uniformed men are vacating the room; leaving the pair in silence after the mechanical whirring comes to an end. Yixing spots the recording symbol in the top left corner of his tablet, signalling the beginning of the interview, as he places it to the right where it’s out of the way, but constantly within his sight.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Thank you for coming here today. As tedious as it is, I’d like to run through a few regulations before we begin.” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   His hands enclose atop of the cold, metallic desk, letting his eyes rest on the inmate sat before him. The other is clad in a simple black jumpsuit, differentiated as a first wing prisoner, since each sector is forced to dress in their own unique colours. Jongdae’s hair remains the same as in his photo, perhaps coming across as longer and more scraggly than usual, yet his features remain almost identical. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing decides to ignore the slight dullness to the prisoner’s skin in favour of preventing his mind from short-circuiting at the sly smirk appearing on his turned down face.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Are these so-called regulations for my benefit or yours?” The brunette’s voice holds a raspy undertone to it, that send shivers down his spine, letting himself become distracted by the way those curled lips move with each Korean syllable falling from his mouth.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   A stinging sensation across the back of his eyes – curtesy of Zenna – prompts him to regain his focus.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “For both of us.” His improvises, not wanting to reveal how, since this is taking place in such an institution, it’s primarily for his benefit over everything. Not to mention the ethical problems associated with this kind of project.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Sure it is.” Jongdae continues to smirk; doing nothing to assist the unsettling atmosphere in the room.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “So, first things first, you have the right to leave the room at any point during this interview. Just be aware that the same scenario will be repeated until you do answer any given questions. Second, some topics might be difficult for you to handle – “</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Oh, I doubt that.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “… So – if at any point you want me to pause – just say so. Last but not least, you will be referred to, in this interview, as Prisoner 259 for confidentiality reasons.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Aren’t you going to ask if I’m okay with you recording this?” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The shackles tied to the back of the metal chair, keeping the prisoner in place, clatter against the furniture as the inmate shifts to lean forwards – as much as he can with the cuffs stretching his arms in an uncomfortable way – to tilt his head and smile innocently at the Chinese male. To Yixing, this new look is more disconcerting than the one before, most likely contradicting the not-so-innocent thoughts running through the subject’s head.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “The interview is being recorded for my own purposes, not to be played to anyone else.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The brunette leans back, in silent contemplation; shackles clinking once again and serving as a painful reminder that this man is a dangerous person, and the look in his eyes doesn’t change that notion.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>   "<span><span>Why just yourself? Do you like my voice that much?”</span></span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>-</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing can’t help the frustration that begins to boil within him. No amount of relaxant, released into his bloodstream, is enough to quell his anger, and there’s only so much Zenna can give him before it relaxes him to the point where he’s asleep against the same metal table he has been staring at, every day, for the past several years.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I’ll ask you again, Prisoner 259. What happened that night?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “And I will tell you, once again… It’s none of your business.” The other responds, from his relaxed position opposite a very tense researcher; the inmate’s head is thrown back lazily, and his body is slouched against the chair with obvious lack of interest.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   That’s it. The Chinese male closes his eyes, rolls his head, before he unleashes the words that have been on the tip of his tongue for the past thirty-minutes.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “No problem. You’re just a disgusting murderer like the rest of the animals in this hellhole.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   At this, the inmate’s head shoots up; his eye’s are wide with shock before they’re narrowing dangerously in the cluelessly angered male’s direction.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I withdraw from this session.” These gritted words snap him out of the bubble he managed to seclude himself in. Blinking away tears of frustration, he tunes in to see the large forms of armoured guards heaving a glaring prisoner out of the once occupied chair and – ultimately – out of the interrogation room.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   For a moment, Yixing is left questioning the sudden silence, until Zenna <em>oh so kindly</em> replays his words of spite and he’s left sighing into his hands as he runs the over his face in exasperation.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “End recording.” A female voice rings through his head, and just like that Yixing is praying for night to come so he can fall asleep.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Solitary Confinement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mentioned past drug use.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <b>
        <em>
          <span class="u">
            <span>Solitary Confinement</span>
          </span>
        </em>
      </b>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Erin?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yes, Dae?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “What time is it?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “It is eleven-fifty, Dae.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Oh good… Lunch time.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   As if on cue, his assigned officer – Kim Jongin – comes bombarding in, with his usual stone-cold expression with his right hand resting against the holster in case of any sudden movement Jongdae may make.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Oh, come on, Jongin. You should know me better by now.” He smirks, playing away his nervousness with his usual cocky attitude; immediately noticing the agitated twitch of the larger male’s eye.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Shut it, brat.” A deep voice responds, prompting him to jokingly raise his hands in mock surrender.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I was just saying.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   There is no reply, instead there being rough hands forcing him up from his less-than-comfortable bed before he’s finding himself shoved out of his cell and into the awaiting arms of Oh Sehun.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>“Sehunnie ~ My hero ~ “ He whines, merely receiving an eyeroll for his efforts.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Ever since Mr. Fancy Twat researcher decided to make him another test subject, the emotionless duo have been assigned to his watch; ensuring he doesn’t step out of line, or try and bribe his way out of being mentally tortured for the foreseeable future. If the two guards weren’t so emotionally withdrawn, he’d consider more than a few questionable means in order to preserve whatever dignity he has left.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   It’s safe to say, that there isn’t a lot left in that department.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Get moving, peaches.” Jongin grunts from behind him, along with a hefty shove to set him off in the direction of the cafeteria. Suddenly, excitement fills his body, knowing that his friends will be waiting for him when he arrives.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   There’s never much in the way of food – especially when he manages to arrive after the gaggle of hunky men have nicked a mass amount of the only edible dishes the lazy cooks bother to conjure. On this particular day, he’s left with a depressing tray of dry, tasteless mash potato, a selection of soggy vegetables and a stale piece of bread to dip in the barely defrosted <em>chicken</em> soup. Despite the label saying chicken, the taste is nothing but questionable and always leaves a horrid aftertaste within the mouth.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   All in all, the food is shit.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yah! Kim Jongdae!” An exaggeratedly sweet voice calls out, just as he spots the wildly flailing arms attempting to grab his attention.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Erin?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yes?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “It appears that a wild Baekhyun is on the loose.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Indeed, Dae. Should I list off the recommended government actions for stray animals?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Nah… That won’t be necessary.” He snickers. Boy, does he love his AI.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I love you too, Sir.” Erin responds, having heard Jongdae’s mental admiration loud and clear.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Glad to know you have my back, RinRin.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Always, Dae.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Jongdae somewhat waddles over to the nearly empty table where his fellow inmate – and best friend – is perched; the latter bouncing happily in his seat at the sight of the younger.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Hey Baek.” He grins, placing his metal tray upon the surface of the table, watching with caution – as he takes a seat – to see if the elder’s mood decides to shift suddenly.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He adores the other, truly he does, but it’s quite a terrifying experience to be faced with faced with the negative side of someone who has split personality disorder. That’s the reason why the generally sweet male was locked up in the first place; someone got on the wrong side of the wrong personality. Let’s just say, it didn’t end well.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Fortunately, Baekhyun seems to be Baek today, as the bubbly smile never falls from his face; leaving Jongdae to relax against his chair.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He briefly notes that Jongin and Sehun are hovering nearby, but pays no mind to it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “DaeDae! Guess what!?” The other beams, seemingly ignorant to the younger’s inability to stomach the pile of crap within his tray. He knows he has to try, however, not wanting a repeat of last week when Junmyeon forced his dinner down his throat.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “What is it, Baek?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Soo is coming out of confinement tonight!”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   A gentle smile graces the smaller’s lips, “That’s good. It’s been a while since we last saw him.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Exactly three months, Sir.” Erin interrupts, his robotic voice filling the inmate’s head causing him to jolt in surprise.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Jongdae clears his throat, “Yes, thank you Erin.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Anytime.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “What did he say?” Baekhyun inquires, mimicking Jongdae’s unenthused motions of shoving vegetables around the tray.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “He was reminding me that Soo has been in confinement for about three months.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Oh ~ Thank you, Erin!” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>-</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   All he sees is darkness.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The pillow is cold against the back of his neck, and the covers do nothing to protect his body from the freezing air within his room.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He would move to adjust the heating, but he can’t get his limbs to cooperate.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Zenna…”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yes sir?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Read number one on my negatives list.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Of course.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing closes his eyes, opening his mind to the words being spoken to him – through the same female voice he’s been hearing his entire life – as he shuts off his heart to all emotions. He doesn’t deserve to feel sorry for his own mistakes.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Number one, June 16<sup>th</sup> 2069 at 10:36pm. You decided to go against your friend’s advice by visiting your then girlfriend at her apartment. You slept with her, waited for her to fall asleep, before stealing all of the money in her home, knowing that she kept a lot of cash on her person. You left a break-up note on her bedside table, blocked her contact details and never spoke to her again. You wasted all of the stolen money on alcohol, drugs and prostitutes. End notation.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He breathes deeply through his nose, holds it for a couple of seconds, then breathes out until his lungs started to burn.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Sir?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yes... Thank you, Zenna.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Of course. Goodnight, Mr. Zhang.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span><em>   ‘Goodnight.’</em> He whispers in his mind; letting a lone tear drift down his cheek just as he feels the sedative begin to take effect.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Day Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: mentioned murder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Day Two</span>
    </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “As I’ve mentioned before, Prisoner 259, you are free to withdraw from this interview at any point.”</p>
<p>   Silence.</p>
<p>   Clearing his throat, Yixing decides to continue; tapping the screen to his tablet, with fast and experienced fingers, until the desired document is lit up on the screen.</p>
<p>   “For recording purposes, I must disclose that today’s interview is going to be for the relaying of information only. I will be using official statements and documents – provided to me by the prison – and will be reading them to Prisoner 259.”</p>
<p>   Whilst listing off formalities, the researcher notices how Jongdae’s body tenses more with every word; the smaller’s gaze, however, remains downcast in such a way that can’t be comfortable for his neck.</p>
<p>   Silence.</p>
<p>   “Okay… Let’s begin.” He double checks everything is running correctly, before he’s letting the first set of words fall out of his mouth.</p>
<p>   “Prisoner 259… You arrived at EXO Prison on the date of January 23<sup>rd</sup> 2075… Would you mind telling me what it was like? How you felt when you first arrived?”</p>
<p>   Silence.</p>
<p>   “Would you like to tell me why you were sent here?”</p>
<p>   Silence.</p>
<p>   “Well… It says here, Prisoner 259, that you where sent here for murder… Is this correct?”</p>
<p>   Silence.</p>
<p>   Yixing tongues at the inside of his cheek, annoyed that the inmate refuses to cooperate. Yixing believes that he has the perfect way of generating a reaction, however. After all these years with experience, handling people who have committed crimes ranging from petty theft to sexual assault on multiple men and women, he knows that the best way rile up a criminal is to remind them of their own wrong doings.</p>
<p>   “According to official government documentation, you pleaded guilty – within the NCJ – after evidence was produced that you had been involved with the brutal stabbing of twenty-four-year-old Choi Jisoo. What do you have to say about this?”</p>
<p>   It’s then that Jongdae finally raises his head – a subtle crack sounding with the movement of his undoubtedly stiff neck – with his eyes shooting daggers in the direction of the shocked Chinese male. The latter can do nothing, sitting statuesque within the uncomfortable steel chairs of the interview room; even when the prisoner’s shaking form leans as far over the table as his cuffs will allow.</p>
<p>   “Fuck. You.” Jongdae hisses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching tightly as to not say any more.</p>
<p>   “Excuse me?”</p>
<p>   “Fuck you!” He screams, kicking his feet out; one foot managing to hit the researcher’s knee, whilst the other nearly sends the light metal table to the floor. The commotion captures the attention of the two guards outside, who immediately hurry to restrain the hysterical inmate – who never stopped his onslaught of verbal abuse.</p>
<p>   “No! Let me go!” Jongdae wails, tears of frustration and unwilling defeat rolling down his flushed cheeks. Jongin and Sehun waste no time in dragging the prisoner from the room, the latter’s cries for them to ‘get off him’ and ‘let him go’ being heard even in their distance apart.</p>
<p>   “No! Not there! Please not there!”</p>
<p>   This time, the cry is out of genuine fear. Yixing can hear it. He’s heard it so many times.</p>
<p>   Knee still throbbing – and his recording not having ended – the Chinese researcher lightly limps to the entrance of the interview room, in an attempt to see where Jongdae had been dragged to, only for a large, muscular body to step in his way; preventing him from wandering any further.</p>
<p>   “Mr. Zhang.” An overly sweet voice calls out, from behind the oversized wall of muscle – that he now realises is the one and only Park Chanyeol, Chief Prison Warden – before Kim Junmyeon steps into view.</p>
<p>   The scientist has always sent unpleasant shivers up the researcher’s spine. It’s a feeling of unsettlement that can’t be explained with words; the only adequate description coming to mind being that of an imbedded sense of fear, that one would feel in their moments before death. Something about Kim Junmyeon screams that he is the worst person imaginable, yet there is never anything to put proof to such <em>outrageous accusations</em>. Junmyeon is an outstanding member of the prison community, and has put so much into helping the world be a better and more controlled place… Right?</p>
<p>   “Ah… Mr. Kim. How’s the work going?” He shuffles nervously, from foot to foot.</p>
<p>   “It’s going.” The elder chuckles, doing nothing to settle to alarms blaring in the Chinese male’s head. “I just got called out to deal with another troublesome inmate. You know the kind.”</p>
<p>   Yixing decides to ignore the sickening smirk on the other’s face.</p>
<p>   “Y-yes… Of course.”</p>
<p>   “Anyway. Duty calls. I’ll be seeing you around, Mr. Zhang.”</p>
<p>   The addressed male doesn’t bother to reply, since the two decided to leave before he could open his mouth.</p>
<p>   It’s still there – the feeling of unease – only now it’s settled in the pit of his stomach.</p>
<p>   There’s something very wrong, he just has no clue as to what that could be.</p>
<p>   “End recording.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. More Than Meets The Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: Mentioned Murder, Hinted Abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <b>
        <em>
          <span class="u">
            <span>More Than Meets The Eye</span>
          </span>
        </em>
      </b>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I don’t know what it is, Minnie. There’s just… There’s something not right here.” Yixing states, pacing back and forth within the walls of his small office. Minseok eyes him with pity – from his own desk that Yixing had placed in the corner of the study – before he’s returning to scrolling through the files the Chinese male sent him.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “You need to tell me what it is that isn’t right, Yixing. Or I can’t help you.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing stops for a moment, biting the end of his index finger in thought, before turning to the other as a signal that he’s ready.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Okay. Hit me with it.” Minseok swivels around, crossing his hands over his lap to show he’s listening.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   They’re always like this.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   This is how they work.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Where Yixing is normally quick to anger and frustration – after not finding the answer straight away – Minseok is calm and collected; always managing to bring the Chinese male back down to earth whenever he’s too worked up about something.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Okay… Uh… “</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Just spit it out.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Choi Jisoo, twenty-four, was stabbed five times in the chest, on January 23<sup>rd</sup> 2075…” He recites, already knowing the case inside out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “… The reported statement says that the victim was walking home from work, at roughly eleven in the evening, when Kim Jongdae dragged her into an alley and stabbed her to death.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Correct.” Minseok offers, to show that he’s following every word said by the researcher.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “The report also states that Miss. Choi and Mr. Kim had been in a relationship three years prior to the incident… In Mr. Kim’s own words, they went their separate ways after a mutual understanding that the relationship was no longer going to work.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Mhm… So, what’s the problem?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “There is a connection… But at the same time, there isn’t.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   At this, the elder leans forward; resting his elbows against his thighs, with his chin resting against his clasped knuckles.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Well… There clearly is a connection. They were in a relationship that ended. He must have lied when he said that they parted ways on good terms.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I don’t think so.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Oh come on, Yixing.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “No, hear me out. Let’s say he did lie to us, and they did leave on bad terms… Why didn’t he do anything in recent months after they split up?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “To not look suspicious? To throw the police off track?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “No. I don’t think so. In all my years studying the prisoners here, all acts of revenge happened within the space of a year from the initial incident. Take Han Rowoon, for example. His wife cheated on him, and became pregnant from another man, and he killed them both a month after he found out. Lee Seungwoo burnt down his brothers house only a week after he stole from him… Need I go on?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing goes back to pacing, which does nothing to quell the growing doubt in his mind, or put out the fire of unease in the pit of his stomach. He hates being hopeless. He hates not having the answer.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He needs answers.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Where are you going?” Minseok frowns, seeing the Chinese male grab his coat from the back of his office chair.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I need to do something. Call me if you find anything.” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He doesn’t spare the protesting elder a second glance, as he rushes through his apartment to find his keys and phone; leaving not a moment later.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>-</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Pain. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   So much pain.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yet… So numb.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He’s never been like that before.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He’s never had others get involved.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Sir. You need to get up. It’s time.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “No… Let me sleep, for once.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Sir, you’ll get in trouble. Please get up.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He tries to move his limbs, but there’s a particular ache in them that has tears springing from his eyes.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He briefly registers the sound of a door opening, just as his vision beings to get blotchy – with black dots appearing everywhere – until there is nothing.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Day Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Sexual Abuse, Emotional Abuse (referenced not explicit), Involuntary Drugging</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <b>
        <em>
          <span class="u">
            <span>Day Three</span>
          </span>
        </em>
      </b>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing knows – immediately – that something is wrong. He’s barely been in the prison for five minutes, wandering around the section that Jongdae is kept, and he registered very quickly how quiet the place was. There were no yells, no threats of violence being thrown towards him, no crying… It was eerily silent.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The researcher makes his way towards his office to begin preparations for the interview with Jongdae. He hopes that he can get through to the inmate, this time, but deems it unlikely since he greatly effected the chance of having a relationship of trust with the prisoner, which knew was always key when conducting interviews if he wanted to get valid responses.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   His thoughts are stopped when he sees Jongin standing outside the interrogation room. Neither he nor Sehun are ever here at this time; always arriving later when they have to escort Jongdae into the room.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Officer Kim?” He calls out. Said male jolts in surprise – a far away look on his face which is quickly schooled into his usual expressionless façade – before straightening up and standing to attention.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Mr Zhang.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “What are you doing here?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The guard clears his throat, a slight nervous tremor to his lip when he speaks.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I was sent to inform you that Prisoner 259 will be unable to attend today’s interview.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   A deep frown begins to mar Yixing’s face. Never – in all the years he’s been within the prison – has an inmate not attended an interview. They had to partake, or they run this risk of being punished.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Can I ask why he won’t be able to attend?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Jongin looks overly panicked for a brief second, before he’s turning to face the researcher head on.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I’m afraid I wasn’t given any information, Sir. If anything changes, you will be informed.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Without any room for argument – since the Chinese male knew the guard was lying through his teeth – Jongin is marching away.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The researcher doesn’t follow – too held up on what just happened – trying to figure out what was going on in this part of the prison. He’s interviewed in almost every sector, and this one is, by far, the noisiest; breaming with the worst of the worst criminals. So why is it so silent?</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Once again, he is left with more questions than answers and he hates it. He needs to see if Jongdae is in his cell, just to make sure he hasn’t been moved into isolation after yesterday’s incident.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   But they normally tell him if a prisoner has been moved.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing begins the path back the way he came, and runs through every scenario possible that could have led to this situation.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   First possibility: He upset Jongdae to the point where he lashed out at the guards; landing him in isolation for two weeks. If this is the case, then his research will suffer greatly, for every day is worth its weight in gold.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Second possibility: He got mixed in with the wrong kind of prisoners, and was beaten so badly that he’s being kept in the medical bay until further notice. Also, not ideal for his research.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Third possibility: Yixing’s gut is screaming at him that the suspicious scientist is up to no good. He might have experimented on Jongdae, which had severe results, or it could be more than that. Something tells him that it’s the latter.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span><em>   “Zenna… Something isn’t right, here.”</em> He communicates in his mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself as he walks past the cell doors of the oddly passive criminals.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   “I agree, Sir.”</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <em>
        <span>   “Make sure you record everything that happens.”</span>
      </em>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <em>
        <span>   “Of course, Sir.”</span>
      </em>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   As soon as Yixing turns the corner, his heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Sehun and Jongin are standing guard outside Jongdae’s cell. The Chinese male knows – despite his pass authorising him to almost every part of the institution – that he’ll be escorted away as soon as he approaches the two.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Quickly ducking out of sight, he steadies his breath for a moment before peering around the corner to keep an eye out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Nothing happens for a moment, but then a blood curdling scream echoes through the otherwise silent corridor. Yixing sees Sehun’s head lower, his body starting to shake, as the yells continue. The researcher doesn’t need to be up close to tell that the guard is crying.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Pull yourself together.” Jongin hisses, shoving the other slightly. The action does nothing to help the slightly taller guard, however.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Another scream cuts through the air, and it takes everything in his power to not release his own tears. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <em>
        <span>   What are they doing to him?</span>
      </em>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   A few moments later, and the cell door is creaking open to reveal a very sweaty, panting Park Chanyeol. Yixing doesn’t miss the way his pulls up the zip on his trousers the moment he exits the room.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing can feel the bile crawling its way up his throat. He wants to vomit.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   When Chanyeol has composed himself – a disgusting smirk on his face – he turns to look at the other two officers, only to pause on the sobbing form of Sehun. His smirk grows as he takes a step towards the brown-haired officer.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “What’s wrong, Officer Oh? Can’t handle a bit of fun?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Chanyeol smacks a hand against the other’s neck, which causes the other to jolt at the contact.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “N-no, S-Sir…” </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Good. I won’t tolerate weakness when I’m in charge. Do I make myself clear?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Y-yes Sir.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Perfect!” Chanyeol moves away, running his hands through his shoulder length black hair, “Maybe I’ll let you have a go, next time.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   With one last smirk in the duo’s direction, the chief of security strolls off in the opposite direction.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing can’t take anymore, and nor can Sehun by the looks of things, as the latter spins around to punch the wall he had been leaning against.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The Chinese male tries his best to keep the vomit at bay; making his way back to the staircase so he can get out of this place.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Zenna… Call Minseok for me.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>-</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Jongdae…”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Dry sobs wrack through the inmate’s body. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The man behind him sighs, running a hand down his spine in a way that’s meant to be comforting. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Jongdae hates it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “You know I don’t like to do this… But you weren’t listening to me, were you Jongdae?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He wants to tell the man to fuck off and die, but a lump is wedged painfully in his throat, preventing the words from coming out.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “You don’t hate me, do you Dae? I don’t hate you. You mean so much to me.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He stares into nothingness, feeling the other shift behind him before there’s a sharp pain in the side of his neck. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Jongdae’s too tired to move. Too tired to make a sound.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “There we go. It’s time to sleep now, Jongdae.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He feels a light kiss against the top of his spine, before he’s drifting off to sleep.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>-</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <em>
        <span>   “Yixing? What’s the matter? Are you alright?”</span>
      </em>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Hyung…” He tries to steady his breathing, but it’s hard to when he’s running out of the prison and to his car.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   “Yixing, seriously. What’s wrong?”</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Nothing. I’m fine, Hyung.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   “Then what is it?”</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I need you research someone for me.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   “Of course, who is it?”</em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “… Kim Junmyeon.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Day Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Mentioned drug use, alcohol, death and smut.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <b>
        <em>
          <span class="u">
            <span>Day Four</span>
          </span>
        </em>
      </b>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Jongdae looks so defeated. Yixing can tell that there’s no life left in his eyes, and he wants to bring up the incident but knows that it’s the wrong time to do so.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Prisoner 259? Is there anything you want to say, concerning the statement I just read to you?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   There’s nothing.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   No movements.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   No eye contact.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   No dramatic reaction to his words, like last time.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   There’s only the steady rise and fall of his chest; his eyes downcast and trained on a random stain within the centre of the steal table. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Do I need to read it again?” Yixing questions; watching the other in the hopes that he’ll say - or do - something. Once again, there’s nothing.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The researcher’s gaze trail to the dark circles under the inmate’s eyes, before he’s looking down at the obvious harsh red bruises littering the skin of his neck. He tries not to let his mind wander back to when the younger limped into the room – a far away look on his sunken face – but it’s too late, already feeling the anger bubbling inside his stomach.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing decides to look back at his tablet – feeling Zenna release a small quantity of a sedative to relax him – resolving to just read the statement anyway.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I think the reason I did it was to support my family. There were so many shops where I lived, and there had been so many entitled people who would just walk by me on the streets… They never acknowledge me, despite the fact that I was starving. Whenever I’d get money or food, I would always give it to my wife and son. If I was lucky, there’d be a bit of bread left for me. Soojin always insisted that I should have it, instead… I couldn’t let her starve. I guess… I finally had enough of the world. So yes, I did it. I burgled the place. It was only a small convenience store, but it’d be enough to keep us going long enough. I managed to take enough for us to live for several months… I took enough baby items to last our child a couple of months… I never stole to hurt someone. I’ve never hurt another human in my life. I just wanted to keep my family alive and, I guess… I guess I also wanted justice - ”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He pauses for a moment, still not gaining any reaction from the other.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “ – Lee Subin, April 16<sup>th</sup>, 2080.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   There’s a deafening silence amongst the two – the room being filled with nothing other than the electronic whir of the overhead lights and the muted sounds of yelling inmates from outside the room.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing can’t help but release a despairing laugh; the noise finally having the other glance up at the fidgeting researcher.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “It’s very backwards isn’t it. The ones who have no malicious intentions are punished… And the ones who have caused the most suffering are left to roam free. What has our world come to?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He sees Jongdae’s brows draw together, a frown now prevalent on his tired face. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “How would you know? Are you one of those people?” It’s mumbled – with a croaky voice that tells stories of what he’s been through recently – but Yixing is happy to finally receive a response, no matter how accusatory it is.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Prisoner 2 – “</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “I wish to withdraw from this session.” Jongdae interrupts, and the Chinese male regretfully stops the recording before calling for the guards.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   A tormented looking Sehun, and a stone faced Jongin, march into the room. The officer’s waste no time with formalities, grabbing a willing Jongdae, by the elbows, before the latter is being led out of the room and back to his cell.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing rests his head in his hands – his mind filled with questions and words of doubt – as guilt begins to take over.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Even though it had just be a jab at his pride, the researcher can’t help but feel like the younger saw straight through him, into the depths of his soul.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Sir?”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Zenna snaps him out of the daze, bringing him back to the present.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Yes, Zenna…”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “You have been here for thirty minutes, Sir. You have paperwork to do.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>
        <em>   I’ve been here for that long? </em>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   “Okay… Thank you.”</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>-</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Yixing isn’t as innocent as he seems. </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Of course he isn’t.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   No one ever is.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   From the moment he turned eighteen – up until the first day he set foot inside EXO Prison – he’s always been the type of person to take whatever he wanted, and to only give when deserved.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   His father was a workaholic – which is probably where he gets it from – and Yixing spent most of his life wondering where his father was and when he was coming home. His dad worked as a lawyer, within the NCJ itself, which gave the Zhang family all types of luxury. If Yixing wanted something, he would get it instantly. If Yixing wanted something done, it’d happen within a second. If Yixing wanted to get laid, then he’d have a line of women standing outside his door. There was nothing that he didn’t have and there was nothing that he was denied.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   It’s with this attitude, and behaviour, that his mother because an alcoholic. She claimed that she needed the drinks to survive – to ignore her son’s anti-social behaviour – and it’s this ultimatum that got her killed. She made many enemies in the several years she was addicted to alcohol; most of which were deterred by the prospect of being handed a wad of cash, others… Not so much.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   He will never forget the day he walked in to find his mother collapsed on the floor, choking on her own blood. The image will forever be ingrained in his mind. No longer was she the beautiful woman, whom Chinese bachelors would fall over themselves just to get the chance of seeing her beauty in person. No longer was she this elegant figure of authority – born into a family of old money and nobility – or this ball of light as the shining centre of attention amongst the crowds. It pained Yixing, of course it did, and this did nothing but spur on his bad behaviour.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   As his father left for work – a week after his mother’s funeral – only to never return to their family home, Yixing sought love and attention elsewhere.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   This is when Minseok came into the picture.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Minseok was always the sensible, laid back person when it came to their friendship. When Yixing had gone out of his way to go clubbing every night – drinking anything in sight, and taking any drugs he was offered – Minseok would always be the one to silently sip on a beer, until it was time for him to step in and remove the Chinese male from a fight that was, inevitably, about to occur.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   The elder was – and is – too good for Yixing. He has lost count of the amount of times the other has bailed him out of bad scenarios. On top of that, younger Yixing thought it was alright to go and exploit this loyalty; to betray the other without a second thought.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Minseok’s girlfriend – now wife – is a stunning woman. She is the sweetest person, never failing to put a smile on someone’s face, and is the most caring person he has ever had the privilege of meeting. She would do anything for Minseok, and Yixing respected her because of it.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   Until one day, she came to Yixing’s house; tears rushing down her cheeks and sobs shaking her body. She begged for him to let her stay – after crying about her and Minseok had just had a huge argument – and of course he agreed. He had always been attracted to her, so when alcohol and weed came into the mix, it didn’t take long for him to start fucking her into his mattress.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span>
      <span>   To this day, Minseok isn’t aware a what happened, and the guilt has been eating him up inside ever since; from the day after it happened, to their wedding day a few years later, up until now, when he’s lying in bed thinking about his life choices, his research and – ultimately – how he’s going to save Jongdae.</span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>10. January 23rd, 2075</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Character Death</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">January 23<sup>rd,</sup> 2075</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>   “J-Jong… Dae…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>   He stares, panic welling in his chest, with his body kneeling on the cold, dirt ridden ground; watching as Choi Jisoo’s life disappears before his very eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>   There’s so much blood, dripping from his hands and the knife within his grasp.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>   His hand shakes, as he takes in the sharp, red object; a loud ringing in his ears as he remains oblivious to the sirens surrounding his trembling form, and the screams for him to drop the weapon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>   Jongdae doesn’t react, still numb as to what just happened. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>   The moment it hits him, his mouth his opening with a panicked breath; harsh and painful sobs wracking through his chest, as he’s cuffed and dragged away by the police.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>   Jisoo is dead…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>11. Only Loyalty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Only Loyalty</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>   “Dae? Are you okay?” Baekhyun asks, waving a thin hand in front of his face; effectively snapping the addressed male out of his thoughts.</p><p>   “Sorry Baek. What were you saying?”</p><p>   The other looks worried, but goes back to their conversation, anyway.</p><p>   “Me and Soo were just talking about how Junmyeon has been taking prisoners again…” Jongdae tense up at this, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Kyungsoo, “he’s probably started experimenting again – ”</p><p>   “Has he hurt you again?” Kyungsoo interrupts, shocking the other two sat at the table. Jongdae tries to ignore the question, but the look in Soo’s eyes tells him to do otherwise.</p><p>   “It’s nothing I can’t handle…” He mumbles, staring down at his fidgeting hands as he tries to ignore the burning gazes of his friends.</p><p>   “Dae… “ Baekhyun whines, just as Kyungsoo slams his fist against the table, “What he’s doing is wrong… You need to tell someone.”</p><p>   “If it was that easy, don’t you think I would have done it already!?” He snaps at the elder, which was met with immediate regret when he sees the other tear up before grabbing his tray to leave the lunch hall.</p><p>   “No! Baek! I’m sorry!” He calls after the other, but knows it’ll be a futile effort on his part; knowing how delicate he can be when he’s trapped in this personality.</p><p>   When his friend ignores him – confirming his own thoughts – he sighs and chances a look at Kyungsoo, who has remained scarily quite the entire time.</p><p>   “Soo…”</p><p>   The latter’s eyes snap up – pupils filled with anger and malicious intentions.</p><p>   “I’m alright, Soo… Please don’t do anything. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”</p><p>   “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill them all.”</p><p>   A small smile makes it’s way onto Jongdae’s face, before he’s reaching out to place a gentle hand atop one of Kyungsoo’s clenched fists.</p><p>   “I know, Soo… And I’ll be there to help you when the time is right. But there’s nothing we can do about it, right now. I don’t want to see you get into trouble again.”</p><p>   He knows it’ll be impossible for the other to fulfil that – since Kyungsoo is psychotic in every sense of the word – but it’s worth a try. He doesn’t want to see the younger trapped in isolation, once again.</p><p>   “You promise?” The other asks, eyes wide as his temper slowly begins to settle.</p><p>   “I promise.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>12. Day Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: Non-consensual Drug Usage, Experimentation</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Day Five</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   Jongdae, once again, fails to turn up for his interview.</p>
<p>   Yixing has been left wondering how the inmate is getting away with such poor attendance, as well as questioning the worth of his research; knowing full well how invalid his paper becomes when there’s such a lack of evidence on his behalf.</p>
<p>   A few taps against the screen and his tablet is alight with security footage; show casing a large, pristine white laboratory, scaling an area that is large enough be a similar width to the prison itself. Dotted across the place, there are white beds and machines he didn’t want to imagine the purpose of. As far as his eyes can tell, there’s just over a dozen personal tinkering with small objects out of his view. Even from his position – as a mere onlooker via a camera – he can sense the tension between them, and it is only then that he spies an orange clad figure that has been restrained to the right of the workers.</p>
<p>   Suddenly, he’s relieved that he took initiative to return to his office.</p>
<p>   “Zenna… Where is this? What are you showing me?”</p>
<p>   He watches with bated breath, as the figure struggles to free himself.</p>
<p>   “This is Professor Kim’s Laboratory, Sir. I recall a desire, you expressed to Mr Kim, that you wished to have more intel on the Professor. I have been working on gaining access to the security footage for two days.”</p>
<p>   “Zenna, you’re incredible.”</p>
<p>   “Thank you, Sir.”</p>
<p>   “Where is the lab located?”</p>
<p>   “It is located beneath the prison, itself. From records I have scanned, it is clear that Professor Kim prefers to visit the inmates within their cells. When it comes to his less favourable intentions… the inmates are taken here instead.”</p>
<p>   Yixing’s brows furrow, struggling to make out anything other than the blurred silhouettes of the staff working.</p>
<p>   “Can you zoom the camera in? Is that possible?”</p>
<p>   “I’m not sure, Sir. Give me a moment.”</p>
<p>   Not ten seconds later, the image is moving closer towards the scuffle.</p>
<p>   “Sound?”</p>
<p>   “There is no sound access, I’m afraid, Sir. This also appears to be the case with all footage I have managed to access.”</p>
<p>   The researcher feels his throat close up, as well as his eyes tearing up, at the sight of Jongdae being shoved against the table by one of the scientists helping to restrain him. A gag is shoved into his mouth before the unmistakable features of Kim Junmyeon appear from the right.</p>
<p>   The Chinese male watches, with numbed disgust, as an unknown fluid is injected into the prisoner. It only takes a few seconds for the foreign substance to come into effect; leaving Jongdae to spasm uncontrollably against the white sheets, with his veins popping out against inflamed skin, beading with sweat. It’s when the bright red of his blood begins to trail from his ears, and on to the material beneath him, that Yixing finally looks away; silently asking for Zenna to shut it down.</p>
<p>   “Sir? Are you alright?”</p>
<p>   He takes a steadying breath before releasing it.</p>
<p>   “How many camera do you have access to?”</p>
<p>   “About half of all within the prison and around the onsite accommodation. If I can be given an extra couple of days, I should be able to hack in to the remaining cameras.”</p>
<p>   “Then that’s all the time I have. Send an email to Minseok requesting a meeting later.”</p>
<p>   “Any specific time, Sir?”</p>
<p>   “As soon as possible.”</p>
<p>   He begins to compile research necessities that will enable him to gather all information needed to achieve his next goal. No longer is he concern with his own research paper.</p>
<p>   No.</p>
<p>   A new determination – one that will ensure that monsters such as Kim Junmyeon – are regulated and looked in to properly, before they are being sent in to institutions such as this prison; along with having them arrested and controlled before they can cause any more harm to people.</p>
<p>   Yixing is unsure as to whether this will work, but what he does know is that the monsters aren’t the ones found on the streets, it’s the ones controlling the streets that are the true enemies.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>13. January 22nd, 2075</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">January 22<sup>nd,</sup> 2075</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>   Jongdae doesn’t know why he’s been called into the café. It has been at least a year since he’s seen Jisoo in person and that was when he had to pick her up from outside the club; her so called ‘husband’ having left her drunk on the streets.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   Walking through the door, he sees his friend hurriedly waving in his direction. Smiling, he wanders over before taking a seat in the chair opposite her just as she’s sliding a hot chocolate towards him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “Hey, JiJi. How are you holding up?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “You remember the day our parents introduced us to each other?” She inquires, before releasing a deep sigh.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “How could I forget?” He takes a sip of the sugary beverage, thanking her for the drink afterwards.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “Yeah… We were so adamant that we shouldn’t be together. Yet… Yet we went with it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “We didn’t have much of a choice, Ji.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “Still… They shouldn’t have forced it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   He reaches across to grab her hand, squeezing it within his own. She returns the smile.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “Stop being so negative. Think about what we gained from it. I gained a sister, who understands me more than the rest of my family put together.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “I didn’t really do much.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “Who else would I go shopping with? Who else would take me out for a manicure? Who else would help me dress up for a date with a potential boyfriend?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   She pauses for a moment, before bursting into laughter. It’s a welcome sight after all the nights he’s woken up to her phone calls; Jisoo sobbing down the phone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “Well… I am the only one who knows you swing that way, so…” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “You don’t have to say it like that!” He exclaims, an indignant pout on his face which prompts the other to lean forwards to pinch his cheeks.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “You won’t leave me, will you?” She pleads, as they stand outside the café; coats and scarfs warding off the cold from the winter weather.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves into her open arms, “remember our movie night, tomorrow!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>   She rolls her eyes, fondly. “How can I!? You never shut up about these things!”</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>14. Day Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: Mentioned Murder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Day Eight</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>   “ – I never thought about the consequences… Of being caught, that it. The only thing on my mind was to get the money and run. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that someone would be hurt along the way. No. It wasn’t my intention to kill him, but I had one job in mind… and I knew my only intention was to do anything in order to achieve it. The consequences were irrelevant and the victory was euphoric. I felt on top of the world. The first time I stole, was from an elderly couple, who didn’t know I was there. It was incredible… the feeling of power that I held over them. The urge to steal grew and I knew that this was my purpose. Am I sorry for killing him? Yes. Do I regret it? No.”</p>
<p>   Jongdae’s pale face and dull eyes remain uncaring and distant.</p>
<p>   “This statement was taken from the interview with Kim Sejun, on March 4<sup>th</sup>, 2070, who was charged with murder during an armed robbery.”</p>
<p>   Yixing places his tablet atop the same metal desk he’s seen every day, for over six years; letting the silence sit between them, as he takes note that he still finds the lack of response frustrating, despite how accustomed he has become to prison ruckus taking place outside the room.</p>
<p>   “Prisoner 259? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”</p>
<p>   Silence.</p>
<p>   “I have noticed a lack of responses, compared to our first interviews… Maybe there’s something you’d like to get off your chest?”</p>
<p>   The inmate’s mouth twitches just enough for the research to expect a reply, only to receive nothing.</p>
<p>   Yixing knows. He knows exactly what Jongdae was going to say.</p>
<p>   He was going to ask for help, which is everything he needs as motivation to ruin everything Kim Junmyeon has.</p>
<p>   <em>You made enemies with the wrong person, Professor Kim.</em></p>
  </div></div>
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